He also praised the judge, Fakhru’l-Mulk Abū ʿAlī ibn Muḥammad ibn ʿAmmār in Tripoli with these verses:
Grant that your phantom, on its nightly course, has become the gravest contagion among men—
then who will rescue a longing lover when drowsiness lowers his eyelids? (1)
This is a lengthy ode.

He likewise composed for the chief, Wajīh al-Mulk Abū ’l-Dhuwād Mufarrij ibn al-Ḥasan al-Ṣūfī:
Had you witnessed my tears on the day of departure,
you would have forbidden your own heart ever to love again;
You would have excused me for my inability to stand firm,
and wondered only that I did not melt away in burning grief.
When the gazelles passed by Rāmah that morning they left me
nothing but an anxious breast and a heart consumed with yearning.
They appeared but granted nothing—how many a cloud
has drifted over you and withheld its rain! (2)
This poem, too, is long.

He also addressed the aforementioned Emir Abq with his celebrated ode:
Ask the unsheathed sword of his glances:
Is there any blood left in hearts for those eyes to spill?
Is there no helper, no defender
who will treat me gently when passion one day rebukes me?
Before us flashed the relentless blade of twin eyes—
keen, inlaid, and girded for battle.
No Turkish arrow, once loosed,
is deadlier than his glance when it alights.
On the night I visited him,
I was the companion of wakefulness, the bedfellow of anxiety.
The cup had already schooled his temper,
and drunkenness had subdued his recklessness.
The embrace grew light, so I kissed him—
tasting the sweetness of lips and clasp.